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Play Mister For Me
by Sam Mosley

I’ve been a prison screw for 28 years, seen 'em all.

Seen your murderers, swindlers, your posh and your tosh - some of 'em I’ve actually liked.

But there are others I wouldn’t piss on if they were alight. Unless of course I could urinate petrol.

I’ve witnessed changes in the prison industry - some good, not all.

So the latest revelation from the misguided did not unduly surprise me.

Now, if I’ve heard correctly, some head for The League of Penal Reform is saying criminals should not be termed offenders as it is demeaning, and in general these criminals are not being treated with respect.

I’m not sure if I should take too much notice of this as the head of the organisation is actually named Crook. However, what I do know is we are now obliged to call our criminals “MISTER”.

Well, we are here to help! And so with love in my heart, I commenced my morning rounds.

Gently rapping on the cell door, I’m greeted with jocular banter. I return the bonhomie with a cheery ‘Good morning Mister Murderer, and you Mister Murderer’s Bitch.

I receive more jocular banter. I then enquire if they slept well... Apparently not.

Is there is anything I can get them from the shops, I ask?

It’s no problem for me as I have to swop some videos for Mister Paedophile.

No? Then I shall go see what the Chef's creating for your feast of the day. I gently close the cell door, happy in the knowledge that the Chef, Mister Poisoner, will be at the very least pissing in their soup.